


I need you here with me (but we’re out in the open)

by luvbell



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, F/M, Princess Clarke Griffin, Sexual Assault, Smut, a little dirty for my first fic but it’s fluffy I swear, bellamy blake has geralt of rivia vibes, kane is one of my favs but he’s evil here sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-21 03:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22554262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvbell/pseuds/luvbell
Summary: Princess Clarke has never been happy with her life, or herself. Until one day, a tragedy brings her into the arms of Bellamy Blake. A man who lives in a cave in the forest.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

Clarke has always been ashamed of who she was. She’d always steal her friends clothes to wear when shopping at a market, or even to leave the castle for anything. The commoners really don’t know much about her because of this. Her adoptive father, Kane, is a sad excuse for a king, and her mother and her real father are dead. Her ”father” makes her ashamed, hiding behind a mask of someone she wishes she could be. Pretending to be one of them so that they can understand that her heart is made of gold. She knows they probably hate the princess, so she hides.

Her best friends don’t know who she is, only Raven. She only trusts Raven. She’s afraid the others would hate her if they found out. She lets herself get too deep in thought while walking through the woods, and she shakes her head to clear her never ending overthinking. The hatred she has for herself for not killing her father and taking the crown for herself, but she doesn’t want it. She never has, it’s a curse. She wants to fall in love and run away from everything she’s ever known. How nice that would be.

“Boo!” 

Clarke nearly jumped out of her skin, gasping as she turns around to confront her friend for scaring her like that. “Jesus, Raven!” 

Raven laughs and claps her hands together once, nearly tripping over a long stick. “Maybe if you weren’t in the middle of the woods I wouldn’t scare you. You know it’s dangerous out here,” Raven points out. Clarke rolls her eyes. “I do this everyday, it’s fine.”

“That means nothing, anything can happen at any second.” Clarke rolls her eyes again. She’ll get a headache with the amount of times this girl makes her do that. 

“Raven, it’s okay. I just… I just want to be alone right now, if that’s okay. I’ll be okay.” She sees Raven sigh, but doesn’t hear it. She sees the disappointment on her face. “One day you have to face it. Who you are, it’s a gift,” Raven says. Clarke looks down at the evergreen grass and sighs. She knows Raven is right, but she doesn’t want to admit it. “It’s a gift when your father treats his kingdom well. If the commoners found out who I was they’d murder me on sight for his crimes. He’s killed family after family. The heartbroken people won’t understand that I’m different. They’d just take revenge.” 

Raven doesn’t say anything for a while, letting out a deep sigh at Clarke’s words. “You’re right. Still, be careful out here, okay? I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

Clarke gives her best friend a smile, giving her a quick hug before she heads off. She watches Raven turn around before turning herself, continuing into the woods she knows so well. She’s been out here so many times that she doesn’t even worry about marking her tracks. She takes the same route every time. 

Clarke starts to hum her favorite song, the song they play every morning before breakfast. The song her father hates and threatens death on the band simply for playing it. She should just run away right now, never return to her hell of a life. Disappear, forever. She listens to the sounds of sticks crunching under her feet, until it almost sounds like her feet aren’t the only ones crunching sticks.

Clarke abruptly stops, and the sound of sticks breaking continues on for about 1 second before they stop as well, and Clarke stops breathing.  _ I’m being followed, _ she thinks.  _ Raven was right this time.  _ She continues walking for a few seconds before stopping again to confirm her theory, and again, the sound of leaves and sticks crunching continues for only a moment after she comes to a halt. She whips around, ready to at least try to be brave. “Hello?” She shouts. Anxiously waiting to be met with death. Or get kidnapped, or raped. 

Nothing happens for a few seconds. It’s so quiet she can hear her own shaky breath, other than the sounds of the afternoon breeze. Clarke’s entire body stops moving, her blood stops flowing, her breath stops coming as she hears a deep growl. A growl that belongs to a hungry predator. She lets out a shaky breath as she listens to it, trying to pinpoint where it’s coming from. She slips the small knife out of her pocket and into her hand, waiting for the creature to lunge at her. She’s practiced with pigs before. 

Suddenly, she hears a loud roar, and she turns to see a panther running right at her. Clarke barely has time to react before she’s running as fast as she can. She can’t out run it, though, as she can hear it gaining up on her almost immediately. “Help!” She screams, hoping that anyone can hear her. That maybe someone can help her. She doesn’t want to die, but she definitely doesn’t want it to be like this. Being torn apart by a wild beast while she screams in agony and begs for mercy. 

She trips on a large log in her way, and she can feel the log tear through her skin, and she whimpers as she falls to the ground. She hears the faint sound of another animalistic whimper sounding behind her as she hits the ground, and she feels her vision going blurry. She feels a tear roll down her cheek as she waits for death to suck her in, and the black fuzz starts filling her vision. 

  
  


❦

  
  


Clarke wakes up abruptly, not knowing where she is. Her muscles are weak, her legs aching from running. A pulsing in her thigh. She reaches down and removes the blanket from on her, only to reveal a nasty gash going down her leg. She winces when she sees it, and she attempts to roll over but fails. She whimpers as she adjusts to the way she was when she woke up.  _ Am I home? Did one of the guards save me? _

She sits up on her elbows, looking around in her surroundings. She’s covered by a soft fur blanket, and she sees a bedside table and the small room is dimly lit with a couple candles. She sees a bucket of water sitting next to her, with some wet rags draped over the side of the bucket. Definitely not home, she doesn’t recognize this. “Hello?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, raspy and almost gone from all the screaming. She tries again, but it’s the same. 

She decides to bang her hand on the wall instead, hoping that whoever her savior is will hear that and come and reveal themselves. Maybe she’s in the kingdom? But she doesn’t hear the talking of the citizens, so that can’t be it. 

“You’re awake.” The voice startles her, and she turns to the doorway where a man stands with his arms crossed over his chest. She suddenly feels like she can’t breathe. He’s gorgeous, with curly brown hair and a sea of freckles across his face, his arms are thick and muscular, a few veins stemming from his big hands.  _ Fuck.  _

He’s wearing a simple white shirt, with a few buttons unbuttoned on the top near his chest, revealing some skin. She doesn’t say anything to him, because she doesn't know how. What does she say to this beautiful man that saved her life? 

“You speak English?” He asks, and his voice is deep. She clears her throat violently before attempting to speak. “Yes,” she answers quickly. “Hm.” Is his response. 

“Who are you?” She asks, her voice littler than she’s ever heard it. 

“I’m Bellamy,” is all he says, walking over and setting down a wooden tray covered in medical supplies. Well, the  _ I live in the woods  _ version of medical supplies.

He grabs the wooden cup off the tray and quickly dumps it on her wound without warning, and she cries out in pain because of the sting. He shushes her as she whimpers, quickly covering the wound with an off white bandage. The burn starts to subside as he cleans the blood off of the wound, adding some more medicine as she seethes through the pain. “You could have warned me,” she says, her voice still rough. “It’s better if you don’t suspect the pain.” 

She scoffs as he brings another bandage to her leg, wrapping it around her whole thigh before tying it together. “That should help,” he says. “What were you doin’ out in the woods anyway?”

“I was just… Taking a walk. I’ve never had something like this happen to me.” 

He scoffs at that, and she’s starting to wonder what his problem is. “Maybe now you’ll understand not to do that.” 

She’s offended by his response. She doesn’t need a man she doesn’t know to tell her what to do. “I don’t need your input,” she spits. 

He doesn’t say anything, just continues tending to her wound. 

“You need stitches. I don’t know how to do that,” he finally says, throwing the empty cup onto the tray. “You never told me your name.” 

She hesitates. She can’t say her real name, because everyone knows Princess Clarke of Polis. Maybe he doesn’t know about Polis. “Clarke.” 

He ‘hm’s before covering her back up with the warm fur blanket, and she gets herself into a comfortable position to sleep. “Thank you,” she mumbles. 

He, again, doesn’t respond. Just grabs the tray and leaves the room, blowing out the candles on his way. 

She doesn’t miss a beat before closing her eyes, and it feels good to close them. It only takes her a few minutes before she falls into a deep sleep, thinking about how worried Raven must be. 

  
  


❦

  
  


_ The sound of the bells ring in Clarke’s ear. She’s sobbing, holding onto her father as she hears the screams. Hears the bombs. Hears the swords clanging together and the sounds of war screams. Sobs as she sees the burning building all around her.  _

_ “Clarke, listen to me. You need to stay here,” her father insists. “Please. I’ll be back for you, I promise. I love you.”  _

_ She shakes her head, crying and screaming as he puts her in her bed and puts the covers over her. The kingdom is being ravaged, and here she is being told to just stay in her room. How can she stay here knowing the sounds of dying men and the sounds of horror rage on outside? _

_ Her father leaves the room, locking the door. Leaving her in there to smother herself in her own fear. She looks out the window, seeing the chaos going on below. Horses riding, men slaughtering each other. Giant mutant creatures ravaging the streets. Knights the size of giants murdering each other. She’s never seen anything more terrifying in her life.  _

_ The gates of Arkadia are burning, buildings burning. She sees all the many creatures being used for war. She holds desperately onto the window sill, hoping it can keep her grounded and not collapse.  _ Maybe I should just jump.  _ She looks down to the ground. How high up she is, the fall should kill her. It’s crazy how someone as young as her could think of something like that, but it’s all she can think of. She’s terrified, shaking, screaming, crying. “Please, make it stop,” she pleads to herself. It doesn’t. It never does. _

_ The door swings open, her father rushing into the room with a relieved smile on his face. She jumps into his arms, thankful that he’s alive.  _

_ She feels his body jerk against hers, and she looks up to see a shocked expression on his face, seconds before blood begins to pour out of his mouth. She screams as his body falls to the floor, with a loud thump. Revealing a Polis soldier with a sword ready to kill her too.  _

_ “Do it,” she whispers. Barely audible. He chuckles, lifting his sword to strike on her. She closes her eyes and screams, but the sword never slices. She opens her eyes slowly, only to see the man dead on the floor, black smoke surrounding him, she watches as the black smoke clouds around him, choking him. Killing him.  _

_ She backs up to the window, still watching as the man who killed her father dies in agony. Suddenly, she’s not afraid. She doesn’t feel sorry, doesn’t feel anything. She watched her father die in front of her, and now another man. Yet it doesn’t scare her now. She sits on the window sill, staring at both of the dead bodies in front of her.  _

_ She looks down again, seeing the killing has died down. They took the kingdom. Killed the king. Maybe the queen. Now, they’re coming to kill her. She sinks to the floor, waiting for the soldiers to come and kill her too. _

_ She hears the screams of her servants as the knights fill the halls of the castle, going door to door, slaughtering her friends. Her family. She cries as they get closer to her room. She begs it to stop, begs for anything to save her, but it never happens. The door flings open, revealing another man. She knows her time has come. But it doesn’t. He holds his hand up, signaling for his men to stop. “Don’t. It’s just a child. Move on to the next rooms,” he says.  _

_ She digs her hands into the blankets, hoping she can just bury herself in them. “You’re a monster,” she whimpers. “A monster.” The second one barely even heard.  _

_ “Maybe,” he says. “But I won’t kill a child. Come with me.” _

_ He reaches for her hand, and she hesitates before taking it. If her parents are dead, she might as well try to live.  _

_ She’ll live with the shadows of those she’s lost. Under the guise of a demon. _

  
  


❦

  
  


Clarke wakes up with a jolt, sweating and shaking after reliving her worst day over and over again. She let the fear leave her body, breathing heavily. “Fuck.”

She sat up, wincing in pain from the bruises on her body. The smell of breakfast fills her nose, and her stomach growls. She’s definitely hungry. 

She attempts to get up but the pain was too strong. She lays back down in defeat. A few moments later Bellamy enters the room with a wooden tray full of food. He sets it down on her lap, and she sits up to eat it. 

It’s silent, and she wishes he would talk more. Tell her why he saved her. Instead she just stares down at her oatmeal.

“Are you going to eat?” He finally says. 

She looks up at him while grabbing the spoon in the bowl. She doesn’t say anything. She can hear him let out a deep sigh that almost sounds like a grumble. She wants to tell him that she needs to get home, but there’s no way to tell him that without letting him know that she’s the princess. 

“Thank you for saving me. I need to get home,” she says. 

He grumbles in response. She supposes that’s all he knows how to do. 

“Eat first.”

  
  


❦

  
  


“Thanks, again.”

“Stop saying thank you,” he says. He lifts her up with ease and sits her on his horse, as if she weighs nothing. She whimpers as her leg stretches over the horse. He hops on after her. 

“Where do you live?” He asks as the horse slowly starts making its way out of the cave. It’s a beautiful place, she’s never seen anything like it. 

The whole cave is lit up with lights, and there’s a small pond near the cottage. This place must be well hidden from anyone’s view. 

She thinks of a lie for a moment, before deciding on Raven’s house. She gives him Ravens location, and the horse starts trotting. 

Once they arrive, he helps her off the horse. “Next time, don’t run around the woods by yourself,” he grunts, hopping back onto his horse. Clarke scoffs before heading to the door, ready to hear all of Raven’s  _ I told you so’s _ . “Goodbye, I guess,” she says.

He says nothing. Only a hum before he jerks his leg against the horse, sending it running full speed in the other direction. 

Clarke knocks softly on the door, and Raven answers almost immediately. “Oh, thank god!” 

Raven throws her arms over Clarke, causing her to wince in pain. “What happened?” 

“I was chased by an animal. A man saved me and brought me to you.” She didn’t bother saying anything else about him, he seemed completely uninterested in anything other than saving her life. 

“I told you it’s dangerous,” Raven scolds. 

“Yeah, I know. Now let’s just move on. I’m fine.”

Raven sighs, stepping aside so Clarke can enter. “The bells have been ringing all morning. You should probably go back to the castle,” she says. Clarke sighs. “Not yet. I need to at least show up in a dress.” 

“I have a few, but nothing good enough for a princess,” Raven laughs. Clarke returns a smile. “It’ll do.”

She dresses herself quickly before hugging her best friend goodbye, ready to walk through the castle gates and get ridiculed by the king. 

  
  


❦

  
  


Clarke makes her way into the castle, already seeing her guards and servants rush to her side. She knows she must look filthy, so she doesn’t know the lie she will tell. “Clarke? What happened?” Her servant, Harper, asks. Clarke doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t know what to say. 

“Oh, you’re filthy, come on let’s get you into a bath,” Harper says, shooing away her questioning guards and helping her into the bathroom. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Harper asks as she fills the large metal bucket with water, and heating up the rocks with fire. Clarke sighs. “You can’t tell my dad,” She begs. Harper sighs, nodding. 

Clarke doesn’t know where to start, how to tell her most loyal servant that she almost died, but was saved by the most attractive man she’d ever seen. A man she wishes to see again, but probably can’t. 

“A panther almost killed me,” is all she says, and Harper gasps. “Don’t. I’m okay.”

Harper stays quiet, filling the bucket with hot rocks and waiting for the water to get warm. “I need to get this dress washed and back to Raven,” she says, stripping out of the dress her friend had kindly let her borrow. 

Harper turned the other way as Clarke stepped into the warm bath, sighing when the perfectly hot water touched her skin, and she sank down. “You can look now,” she says, and Harper turns around. She goes to grab the soap, but Clarke stops her. “It’s okay. Get some sleep,” she assures her. 

Harper gives her a warm smile. “You’re too kind.”

Despite Clarke being exhausted herself, she assures Harper and waits for her to leave the room before continuing with her bath.

Over the next few days all Clarke can think about is Bellamy. She thinks about how easy it would be to just go back to that cave and see him, but she knows he doesn’t want that. He only saved her because he probably thinks she’s a defenseless little girl. These days, maybe that’s all she is. 

Her father tries to speak to her but she just brushes him off most of the time. He’s executed another citizen this week for the simple crime of stealing. Clarke wishes she could save them, but she’s no ruler. She’s no queen. She’d never be her mother. 

A couple weeks pass and Clarke decides to go to the cave. She’s done thinking. She wants to see him again, maybe have him check up on her wound. Yeah, that’s why she’s going. 

She stumbles through the woods looking for the cave, but she can’t remember exactly where it was. Maybe if she calls his name he’ll hear, he seems to be out here a lot. She hesitates before continuing on her journey, and then she sees a few lights coming out of a mountain. 

“Bellamy?” She calls out as she approaches the lights. She walks into the cave, shivering when cold water droplets hit her pale skin. “Bellamy?” 

“I thought I told you to stay out of the woods.” She jumps at his voice, turning around to face him. “You scared me.”

“Good.”

Clarke scoffs. This man is insufferable. “Why are you here, Clarke.” 

She shrugs, not exactly planning to tell him she wanted to see his face again. “My leg,” she lies.

“What about it?”

“I just figured you could check up on it. I did my own stitches.” 

He ‘hm’s before returning to the task he was doing. She follows him to his cottage as he carries a bucket of freshly caught fish. “You don’t have doctors for that?” He asks. Clarke doesn’t respond, just shrugs again. 

He gestures for her to come inside, having her sit down on his bed. He grabs a wet rag and wrings it out into a wooden bucket. “Take off your pants,” he says. Clarke freezes. “I need to get to the wound.” 

She hesitates but does as he says, watching as he dabs the wet rag onto her already healing wound. He scoffs, throwing the rag back into the bucket. “Your wound is fine. You’re wasting my time.”

Clarke scoffs. 

“Why are you really here?” He asks. 

“I just… I guess I just wanted to come say hi,” she responds. He laughs. What a dick. It’s too bad that he’s so attractive and also happens to be an asshole. “Well you’ve said hi,” he says, motioning his hand toward the door. 

“Wait.”

“What?” He says, She can tell he’s getting frustrated. She was right. He wants nothing to do with her. 

“Do you have a problem with me or something?”

“No, I just don’t know you very well and you’re coming into my home just to say hi after meeting me once,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. “And I told you to be careful and you didn’t listen.”

“I do that often.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“How long have you lived here?” She asks, breaking the awkward silence in hopes for an actual conversation with him. 

“Since the king of Polis banished me from my home and killed my family.” 

Clarke froze. This man that she’s so interested in has been wronged by her father. Of course he had. Now she definitely can’t tell him who she is. She’ll have to give him up, she can’t get close enough to him and then lie. “I’m so sorry that he did that.” 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you that. You probably don’t want to hear bad things about your king,” he says. Clarke scoffs. “He is  _ not  _ my king. Never will be.”  _ He’s not my father, either.  _

She wishes she could tell him what the king did to her real parents, how he stole her from Arkadia and adopted her in. How she never wanted to be the princess of Polis, but she fears that Bellamy wouldn’t understand. He would still hate her. She supposes she deserves the hatred she receives. She just lets the king do everything without stopping it. She knows she could slip poison into his meal. End it once and for all. She can’t. 

“He killed my parents, too,” she says. Bellamy grumbles again.

Clarke sighs, leaning back onto the bed and watching him clean his sword with a wet rag. “Were you a knight?” She asks. 

“No. I was just a child when he did what he did to me. I was taken in by a man who found me wandering the woods crying. He was basically my father. Taught me everything I know,” he explains. “He’s dead.” 

“I’m sorry,” she says. He doesn’t say anything. He’s not very good at having conversations. 

“I should probably go,” she finally says, after more silence. 

As she stands up, he grabs her arm. “Wait.” She pauses, before turning around to face him. He legs go, realizing he was too rough. “I don’t get a lot of company out here. You can stay… If you want.”

Clarke gives him a small smile, before nodding. Staying here is better than being in the castle anyway. 

“You can have the bed,” he says. She nods. She knows they can’t share a bed, they’re still strangers. Maybe one day they’ll share a bed, in their home, but that’s just a fantasy. Clarke’s used to having those. 

“Goodnight, Bellamy.”

“Goodnight.”

  
  


❦

  
  


After Clarke leaves the next morning, her thoughts don’t get any better. She thinks about him every night. It’s insane how she barely knows him yet she’s so captivated by him. 

She visits him often, because he’s still the only thing on her mind. She hopes that with him, it’s the same. He starts talking more, every time she visits. He opens up more. 

She enjoys talking with him, enjoys getting away from her life to spend time with someone who listens to her. She’s only seen him smile once, and she already knew the second she saw it that she needed to see it more often. 

Clarke knocks on the door a couple times, and it opens after a few seconds. She smiles at him. “Hi,” she says. He steps aside, inviting her in. 

“Tired of your dad again?” He asks, smirking as he sets down another bucket of fish. She told him about how cruel her father is, but she never told him who her father was. Bellamy often tells her how much he wants to kill him, and Clarke definitely wouldn’t be opposed to it. 

“Yes, actually, but I also kind of like you,” she says, smiling shyly and sitting down on the bed. That’s definitely going to fuel his Bellamy ego. “Kinda, huh?”

She laughs. He makes her do that sometimes, she does it more often than she ever has. It’s the first time she’s felt this happy since her father murdered the woman she loved. The first time she’s felt safe since she was with her real parents back in Arkadia.

Clarke had never been very happy in life. The only time she began smiling in Polis was when she met Finn, but that ended quickly. He made her feel special, took her virginity, told her all these cute lovely things to hide the fact that he was a coward. He already had a girlfriend, and that was when she met Raven. Her best friend. After that, she gave up for a while. Then, she met Lexa. She was even happier then. Lexa was the commander of the Trikru kingdom. They were different, there were no kings and queens. Only commanders. Polis and Trikru were at war, and Clarke chose to be on Lexa’s side. She fell in love for the first time in her life. Lexa made her feel special. 

Clarke ran away from Polis one day, living with Lexa in Trikru for a while. Of course, that made the Kane very angry. He sent his army to Trikru, but Lexa’s army fought strong, and they won. Clarke had never been more proud. Eventually, Clarke returned to Polis to try to get Kane to calm down, and make a treaty with Lexa, but he refused. He locked Clarke up, saying he’d never let her leave until the war was won. A few weeks later, Kane called her into the throne room and tossed Lexa’s head right at her feet. Clarke had never screamed and sobbed harder in her life. After that, she never felt the need to try to understand the king again. She only knew him as a mad man. One day, she’ll kill him. She’ll free Polis. 

Now, sitting across from Bellamy Blake, she feels she can maybe feel something like that again. This time, she won’t let her father ruin it for her. 

“I hope this doesn’t sound terrible, but I’m glad that panther almost mauled me,” Clarke says. Bellamy laughs. He  _ laughs.  _ One of those laughs where you throw your head back and just let it out. She’s never heard that before. “That’s cute,” he says, smiling. There it is again. That smile. She wants to stare at it forever. Wants to draw it. 

Weeks pass and Clarke catches more and more feelings for him. Her heart lurches when he laughs, heart squeezes itself when he smiles. She loves the sound of his voice. It makes her feel safe. Finally, after years, she feels at home.

  
  


❦

  
  


Clarke wakes up to the sun shining in her face. She doesn’t mind it as much now, knowing that she’s about to see Bellamy in a few minutes. He’s always awake before her, and she loves that he’s the first thing she gets to see. 

She makes her way toward his room, stopping by the front door when she hears his voice. 

“I’m telling you, I don’t know who you’re talking about.” 

“I’m going to give you one chance to surrender the girl, or you’ll both die today,” a deep voice replies. Clarke continues to listen, her heart beating at a thousand miles per hour. She can’t lose him. She  _ won’t  _ lose him. 

“Last chance,” the other one says. She looks through the cracks of the wooden blinds and sees about 6 or 7 men standing outside his cottage.  _ What do they want?  _ Bellamy doesn’t say anything, and the first man draws his sword. Before he can land a hit, Bellamy draws his. The men assume he makes his decision, and all of them go in for the attack. 

She watches as Bellamy fights all of them, mowing them down one by one, while barely suffering many injuries of his own. The last guy slashes his back with his sword, causing Bellamy to yell out in pain before turning the fight around and killing the man. She cannot believe what she just watched. She never knew he could fight like that. 

Once she’s sure the men are all dead, she rushes out of the cottage to tend to him. To make sure he’s okay. As soon as he sees her, he throws his arms around her and crushes her into his chest. “Thank god,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“What do they want?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” 

Clarke brings him inside, having him sit on the bed as she prepares supplies to treat his wound. Without thinking, Bellamy takes off his shirt so she can have better access, and she swears she stops breathing. 

She tries not to let Bellamy know how she reacts as she begins to clean his wound. She winces when she sees it, a giant gash going down his back, but it’s not the only scar on him. He’s got tons.  _ Who was he, before he was just a man in the forest. _ She realizes she’s touching every scar when she hears him chuckle, and she blushes before taking the medicine and pouring it down the wound. Bellamy lets out a loud groan as she does so. “I’m sorry,” she says as she presses the wet rag all over the cut, cleaning the blood away from it.

“They were asking that you surrender me. Why do they want me?” She asks him. She’s trying not to admit that she’s terrified. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen bounty hunters around here in years.”

_ Bounty hunters?  _ Who the hell is hunting her? She ignores the fear brewing in her chest as she bandages up his wound, stepping back to let him know he can re dress whenever he wants to. He turns around to face her, and she’s never seen that look in his eyes before. 

“Bell?” 

“I don’t know what they want, but I can’t lose you, Clarke,” he says, his voice barely even considered a whisper. She doesn’t know what to say. She feels the same, but words aren’t forming in her brain, or coming out of her mouth. 

She steps closer to him, keeping her eyes leveled with his. “Bell—“

She’s not able to finish her sentence before Bellamy grabs her and pulls her close, his mouth crashing into hers. Clarke immediately melts, kissing him back with as much passion as you could put into a single kiss. 

She falls into his lap, running her hands through his curls. She feels a surge of wetness when he lets out a groan in response. She’d imagined this so many times, but she never imagined that it’d be this good to kiss him. To be this close. To finally realize that he feels the same way she does. She realizes now, with his lips on hers, that she knows she’s falling in love, and doing it fast. It only took a couple months for her to fall for this wonderful man, and she’s so grateful for him. 

Bellamy places his hand on the back of her neck before falling back onto the bed, taking her with him. She giggles as they hit the mattress, and she sits up to take off her shirt. Bellamys hands are immediately on her, touching everywhere he can reach. Her stomach, her boobs, her ass. 

Clarke moans as he plays with her nipples, quickly flipping her over after hearing her reaction to his touch. She sighs when he places kisses all over her body. Her neck, her jaw, her tits, fuck, it all feels so good. Everything about him is so good. She wants to run her hands up and down his back, but she doesn’t want to hurt him, so she just grabs at his sides as he trails his kisses even lower. 

“Clarke…” his voice sounds so rough, barely together as he grabs her pants and hooks his fingers under the waist. She doesn’t say anything, she simply nods and he doesn’t hesitate to pull them down. She bites her lip, anxious to see what his reaction to her is. She feels vulnerable, she’s never felt this way with anyone. She watches his wrecked expression as he stares down at her now naked body, and she supposes that’s a good reaction. No one had ever looked at her like that before. 

“Bellamy, I want to,” she admits. Fuck, she wants him to fuck her. Wishes she’d never given her virginity away, so that he could be the one to take it. “Yeah?”

She nods, running her hands down his torso, feeling his abs. He tugs off his pants, and she moans when she sees the mold of his cock.  _ Shit. _ She’s only been with one man, and his dick was a disappointment, but this cock is magnificent. She can tell just by his hard. She bites her lip as she tugs his underwear down, and she’s not breathing again. Fuck, she wants him. She wants him bad. She wants him any way she can have him. “Bellamy,” she pants.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me, anything, please.  _ I need you _ .” 

She’s pretty sure she’s crying right now, she’s never felt a surge of emotions quite like this one. He lets out a long held in breath, before kicking his underwear away and settling himself between her legs. “I’m so glad I met you,” he admits as he lines his cock up with her entrance. Her breath hitches when she feels the head brush against her throbbing clit. “Me too. Fuck, me too.” 

They both let out a moan as he pushes in, and fuck, Clarke has never felt a stretch like that before. It feels so good when he bottoms out, she’s never felt anything like that before in her life. She whimpers when he pulls out and slowly goes back in again, and she feels a surge of pleasure shoot through her body when she feels his cock hit that spot inside her. She’s so overwhelmed and he’s barely even moving. 

“Please, please please please,” she doesn’t know exactly what she’s begging for, but she gets it. He starts going faster, harder, slamming his hips into hers, recklessly. “Oh, fuck,” she moans. She didn’t think it could feel this good. Her eyes swell with tears every time his cock pounds into her, sharing kisses with him the entire time. The only sound in the room is their moans of pleasure, the sound of skin, and mumbles of love and appreciation. They aren’t ready for the  _ I love you,  _ but Clarke hopes they’ll get there one day. For now, this is the start. 

“Fuck, Clarke,” he growls, and the sound of that sends her hurling over the edge, chanting his name as she comes around him, crying tears of happiness and pleasure as she comes down. Bellamy gives a few more thrusts before spilling inside of her, holding her hips to his torso with his hand. She feels his cock pulse inside of her as he moans into her neck, and she’s never heard a sound more sexy than that. 

Bellamy looks up at her, wiping her tears with his thumb, before placing a kiss on her lips. “I never want to lose you,” he whispers, his cock starting to soften inside of her. He waits a few more seconds before pulling out of her, and she winces as he does. 

He grabs the fur blanket and drapes it over the two of them, then he lays there and stares at her, her face in his hands. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she says, closing her eyes and placing her hand over his, that’s currently caressing her cheek. She won’t say it yet, but she loves him. 

She never thought that one day, she’d be able to say that she gets to lay in bed with the man she truly loves. The man she loves more than anything. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: sexual assault & angst

Clarke wakes up happy. She looks over at Bellamy, seeing him sleeping soundly and she’s never felt a bigger smile reach her face. It’s like she can’t stop smiling, she tries to frown but it’s almost impossible. So she just giggles at herself. 

“Morning.” 

She turns her head again to him, smiling and cuddling up to his chest. “Good morning,” she says. He lets out a sigh of contentment as he pets her head a couple times. 

“Oh, your wound,” she says, sitting up. “I almost forgot, I need to check it.” 

Bellamy groans. “Do you  _ have  _ to?” 

Clarke giggles at his stubbornness. “Yes, now get up.”

He sighs, sitting up and dangling his legs off the bed, waiting for Clarke to do what she needs to do. Clarke gets out the medicine kit, getting the wet rag ready to clean the new blood. She takes off the bandages gently, wincing when she sees how much worse the wound had gotten. “Jesus,” she mumbles. 

“So where’d you learn to kill almost 10 men like that? I’m very curious,” she asks him, as she pours the medicine on his wound. He gives a small groan as the sting settles in. 

“You remember the guy I told you about? The one I considered my father?” He asks, lightly stroking her thigh while she dabs the wet rag all over the wound. “Mhm,” she mumbles, focused. 

“He taught me. He was one of the best fighters I’d ever seen.”

She wraps the wound up again, hoping he will start healing now. “All right. All done.” 

“About time,” he groans. She laughs at him. He immediately lays back down, holding his arm out for her to fall back onto his chest. 

“Are we gonna lay in bed all day?” She asks as she leans back against him, snuggling up to his side, enjoying his warmth. He takes a moment to think before answering. “Yes.”

  
  


❦

  
  


Bellamy gives Clarke a sad look as she hops onto his horse, grabbing his hand and holding it for a few moments before letting him go. “You know I have to go,” she says. She’s disappointed that she still has to return to the castle. Disappointed that she can’t just spend all of her time with him. 

“I know. When you get home just give him a spank and he’ll run back to me,” Bellamy says. Clarke laughs at that. 

“Will do.” 

When Clarke reaches the castle, she pets the horse goodbye before sending him back to Bellamy. She sighs as she watches the horse scurry away, knowing it will be a few days before she can see Bellamy again. For now, she’ll have to deal with the castle. The king. Her servants. It disgusts her that these poor people have been put into the position of taking care of her. She doesn’t need them to take care of her. She needs them to go home and be with their families, but Kane would never let her do that. Not while he’s alive. 

She makes her way into the castle through the crypts, and she sneaks into her bedroom through the empty hallways. 

Clarke can’t stop thinking of him, as usual. How it feels to kiss him, how it feels to be in his arms, surrounded by his warmth on a cold night. She just wants to disappear, run away with him. Somewhere that Kane would never find them.

She visits him every few days. They mostly talk, sleep, kiss and fuck, and then she has to return to the castle to do her princess duties. 

She doesn’t do much after that. She stays in the castle longer this time, about a week since she’s seen Bellamy. She watches Kane give unfair punishment, she does her usual walks around the castle for exercise, because Kane says that “a prince would never love a fat princess.”

She doesn’t give a fuck about any prince, though. She only knows Bellamy. She knows he would never think that she’s fat. Yet, she does the walks anyway, mostly because it gives her a chance to clear her mind. She would never do something just because Kane says it’s the right thing to do. 

She’s stopped referring to him as her father now, after everything he’s done in the past few months. She’s reminded who he really is. Why she needs to get the hell out of Polis.

“Clarke!” The yell snaps her out of her thoughts, and she turns to meet the eyes of the monster they call king. “Yes?”

“I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

Clarke sighs, and follows him into the throne room, where they sit down and she waits for the someone to enter the room. She’s not thrilled. 

A young man walks in, stalking up to them before bowing to both of them and giving her a smug look. “This is prince Cage Wallace of The Mountain, and he said he’d like to meet you, Clarke,” an old man behind them speaks up. “I’m Dante.”

Clarke wants to throw up. Kane’s never introduced her to a prince before, she never thought he’d care. “Pleasure to meet you, princess,” Cage says, grabbing her hand and kissing the back of it. She pulls her hand out of his grip quickly, not wanting any of that.

“Clarke,” Kane hisses under his breath. “Greet him.”

Clarke sighs heavily. “I’m princess Clarke of Polis. Nice to meet you.” 

She can feel the internal embarrassment swell inside her. She hates this. Absolutely hates it. Cage gives a triumphant smile. Clarke tries to let the disgusted look on her face be obvious, but he doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, he doesn’t care. 

“I look forward to our time together,” Cage says. 

“Of course you do.”

Clarke gets out of her seat when the meeting is over, making her way over to her room. This is it. She’s going to leave today. She’s going to see Bellamy. She can’t do this anymore. She won’t. 

  
  


❦

  
  


“Bell?” She calls out as she walks through the cave toward his cottage. She hopes he’s here and not out hunting. She wants to leave as soon as possible. Bellamy wastes no time walking out of the cottage as soon as he hears her voice, rushing to her and crashing his lips against hers, holding her tightly in his arms. 

She giggles as he sets her down, looking at her with pure adoration. No one has ever looked at her like that. She can feel herself melting under his gaze. “I missed you,” she whispers, her forehead pressed against his chin. He gives her forehead a kiss. “I missed you too.”

She wastes no time getting to the point of why she came. “We need to leave. We need to get far away from Polis,” she blurts out, not thinking of what she’s going to tell him if he asks why, which he does. 

Clarke freezes, opening her mouth to say something, but no words come out, so she closes it. She does it a couple times before she gives up. “We just have to,” she says. Bellamy isn’t convinced.

“Clarke, this is my home. I can’t just leave.”

Clarke sighs. She has to tell him. There’s no avoiding the truth. Yet, she hesitates. She doesn’t know how to tell him. 

“I’m the princess of Polis. Kane is going to force me to marry a prince and I can’t. Not when I—“ she stops herself. “Not when I know you.”

Bellamy stills, staring at her with a look in his eyes that she can’t quite register. The look quickly turns into a look of anger. A look of betrayal. 

“You lied to me? This whole time, you were the daughter of the man who killed my family?” He barks out, startling her. 

“Bellamy—“

He shakes his head, and she stops talking. She’s ruined things. She knew he would hate her. “Save it,  _ princess.”  _

He’s mocking her. He doesn’t know the truth. Doesn’t know that she is nothing like her father. “He killed my parents and I had no choice!” She yells, hoping he will understand. Hoping that this isn’t the last she will see him. Hoping that they can still be together. Hoping he’ll listen, and they can run away. 

“It doesn’t matter. You say here and listened to me tell you what he’s done, and you continued to lie to me.” 

Clarke feels the tears swelling in her eyes, and she feels one fall down her cheek. “Get out. Go back to your castle. You can lie to your prince instead,” he spits, turning around and walking back into his house, slamming the door. 

Clarke backs away from the cottage, quickly walking to the exit of the cave before letting out a sob. She doesn’t want him to hear her cry. She doesn’t think he’d care. She finally found someone to love again, and it gets destroyed. She tries to find happiness, but it never lasts. She gets far enough away from the cave and lets out a scream, falling to her knees and begins to sob violently. All she wanted was him. She wanted to be happy with him. Now, she’ll never get the chance.

  
  


❦

  
  


Clarke makes her way back into her bedroom at the castle, taking off her dirty clothes and changing into her nightgown. She hopes no one knew she was gone. She could leave tonight. She could get out of here, with or without Bellamy. She would rather die than be forced to marry Cage, or have anything to do with him. She cries herself to sleep that night. 

The next few weeks, Clarke cries all the time. She cried after breakfast, she cries when she bathes, she cries at every reminder that she will have to spend her life with a  _ prince.  _ She hates that she wants to run away, but she  _ can’t.  _ She doesn’t want to leave Bellamy. Even though he hates her, she can’t leave him. She can’t leave the one good thing she’s finally found. 

Every day she hopes that he will show up at her window, telling her he forgives her, but he never shows. She makes an effort with the prince, pretending that she isn’t grossed out everytime he speaks. She pretends to not sob at night the first time Kane mentions the marriage. She pretends not to cry the first time Cage tells her they need to start trying for an heir. 

A few weeks later, and the wedding is all set up. Clarke is staring at herself in the mirror, taking in the dress she’s wearing. Taking in the fact that she’s about to become a useless wife. No one would follow her as a queen, she’ll just be the wife to the future king. “You look beautiful,” Harper tells her, as she curls her hair with some hot metal. Clarke does look beautiful, she can’t help but think that of herself. Though, she doesn’t want to look beautiful for Cage.

“Thank you,” she says, staring down at her hands, unable to stop fidgeting. It’s been almost two months since Bellamy sent her away, and she feels like she could never get over it. It’s different when you know someone you love hates you. It hurts. 

“You seem upset,” Harper mentions. “You can talk to me.”  _ Can she?  _ Can Clarke trust anyone anymore? She just gives Harper a smile, reassuring her that it’s nothing. 

After Clarke is ready, they escort her to the garden, where the wedding will be taking place. She wants to throw up when she sees Cage waiting under the arch for her, and she links arms with Kane as he walks her up to the sick man she’s about to marry. Clarke holds in her tears as she watches everyone around her. They all seem to adore the wedding, except for Harper. Harper knows something’s up with Clarke, she always has. 

Clarke still doesn’t want to tell her. She doesn’t want to tell anyone about what happened. Doesn’t feel the need to. Clarke stands across from Cage, staring at his sickening smile with disgust hiding behind her eyes. Clarke tunes out everything. She tunes out the priest talking, she tunes out the crowds sounds of awe, and the clapping she hears when Cage says I do. Clarke stands there for a moment, wanting to just run away. She wants to punch Cage in the face and run far away from this hell she's living. 

She forces herself to say I do, ignoring the cheering from the crowd. They have no idea what it’s like to live like this. She wants to cry. She wants to tell everyone to just shut the fuck up. It’s too much. It’s too loud.

She feels a tear escape her cheek when Cage forcefully pulls her close to him and shoves his lips onto hers. She tries not to gag as she just sits there and waits for it to be over. When he’s done, he lets out a holler to the crowd, and they return it. She knows that later tonight, she’ll have to do the same thing when he’s fucking her. 

She cries silently as they walk to his new bedroom in the Castle, and she just stands in the middle of the room while he sets his beer down on the dresser. “Tell me, Clarke. Why are you such a prude?” He asks, lightly touching her neck. Clarke shivers at his touch, but not the good shiver. The shiver you get when you jump into a freezing cold lake. Not the good shivers she got when Bellamy touched her. She knows she should just lie there and take what Cage gives. Knows she shouldn’t make a fuss. 

“I’m not,” she says. 

“You don’t like me. I heard about your relationship with the commander of Trikru, so I assume you don’t like men?”

“I like both, just not you,” she spits. “Now, I’d like to get some sleep. I don’t want to have sex with you.” 

She hopes he’ll listen, hopes he’ll be respectful of her wishes. Instead, he just laughs. She feels the tears swelling up, and she can feel the little knives in her throat as she prepares to cry. “Please.”

Cage huffs, before grabbing his beer and taking a big gulp. “Whatever, prude. Go back to your room. We’ll try for an heir tomorrow.”

So, she has until tomorrow to get out of here. She’s made her decision. She doesn’t want this, never has. If she has to leave the man she loves, then that’s exactly what she will do to survive. 

  
  


❦

  
  


The next morning, Clarke gets up early for the breakfast she’s being forced to have with Kane and Cage. After barely getting through that, she has to deal with sitting through a three hour meeting in the throne room, watching Kane give more punishments to the people he’s supposed to protect. She can’t ignore the dirty looks she gets when the prisoners are escorted into the dungeon. 

The whole day goes by in a blur, and she supposes all her days will be like this now. She spends it mentally preparing herself for what Cage is going to do to her. She knows she can’t escape it. She knows that if she runs away, they’d never stop looking for her. 

Later that night, Cage sneaks into her room, does what he needs to do. She lays there and stares at the wall and waits for it to be over, and when he’s done, he sneaks off into his own quarters. Once he finally leaves, she begins to cry. She’s never felt this uncomfortable in her life. She feels dirty, she feels like a whore. Clarke takes a bath and puts on her favorite nightgown and gets into bed, preparing herself for another day of hell the next day. And the next. She prepares herself for a  _ life  _ of hell. 

  
  


❦

  
  


Bellamy hasn’t been sleeping right since Clarke told him what she is. He knows he hasn’t been himself, knows that he needs to reach out to her, to tell her that he cares and loves her regardless of who she is, but he can’t find himself to do it.

When he thinks of doing it one day, he hears the kingdom bells start to ring, and they ring all day. They ring as a sign that the princess has been married, and he knows he needs to get to the castle. He knows he needs to save her, but he never does. 

He cries at night when he thinks about her. He wishes it were easy to take back all the things he said, but he knows she might not forgive him. He wouldn’t forgive himself. He’s always thinking about what it felt like to kiss her, to hold her. He misses it more than anything. It’s all he thinks about for days after the bells. He wonders how she’s doing, wonders if she will come back to the cave and tell him she’s sorry, so that he can tell her the same. She never comes, though, and he’s stuck waiting for something that won’t happen. Maybe she’s happy with the prince, maybe he’s reading everything wrong. Maybe she realized that she loves the prince, and he’s worrying for nothing. Maybe it’s better to think that way. 

He does his usual routine, but this time it’s not any different than it was when he met Clarke. He’s still thinking about her when he’s fishing, he thinks about her when he’s hunting. He hates to say it but he even still thinks about her at night when he gets off. He knows it’s wrong. Knows that since she probably hates him, that’s it’s weird that he still thinks of her that way, but he can’t help it. He misses her. 

A couple weeks after the bells and he breaks. He decides that he’s going to ride off to the castle tonight and go see what she’s up to. See if she still cares for him. To see if he can save her, and if he can, he wants to run away with her. He wants to do what she wants to do. He wants to run somewhere far away, and grow old together. He wants to argue over stupid shit, like who gets to harvest the potatoes one day and who gets to go fishing the next. Maybe they’ll even do it together. He wants to kiss her every morning and fuck her every night, and he wants to have a chance to tell her that he loves her. She’s all he has, and he was an idiot to give that up. If he could go back, he would understand her, and he never would have sent her off into a dangerous ordeal. He wouldn’t blame her if she hates him for what he did. 

Later that night, he hops on his horse and rides to the castles of Polis. He wears a cloak around himself so that no one would see him and recognize him, because he doesn’t look very different from when he was 17. He knows that one look, and he’ll be dead. Executed publicly, even for Clarke to see. He needs to get to her. Needs to see her. 

He rides quietly through the city, watching as some of the night owl citizens watch him, and it’s almost as if they are staring into his soul. He hasn’t been here in years, and right now, he wishes he wasn’t. This place is filled with nothing but bad memories. 

Bellamy made it as close to the castle as possible before hopping off his horse and tying him to the nearest stables, he’d have to walk to be less quiet. He has no idea where Clarke’s room is, and he knows he’ll have to put himself in danger in order to get to her. 

He makes his way to the gates, sighing when he sees that the gates are covered in armored knights. “Come on,” he curses, turning around. He can fight, but there were way too many. 

Bellamy sighs before sitting down on a barrel, rubbing his hands up and down his face. “Fuck!” He curses in a loud whisper. 

He  _ needs  _ to get to her. He needs to fix what he’s done. He quickly thinks, rushing to the side of the castle and sneaking along the side of it. He searches for any sign of her bedroom window, but there’s nothing. He begins growing angry, impatient, squeezing his hair in his hands out of stress. 

Everything is calm for a moment. He can hear the soft sounds of the people out at night, he can hear the cicadas in the woods singing. Everything is okay for a moment, for just one moment, but it doesn’t last. He hears the footsteps running to him before he can react, and before he has any chance to react, he’s being hit over the head with something big, big enough to knock him out cold. As he hits the ground, Clarke is the only thing on his mind. 

  
  



End file.
